all over me
by gailpeck
Summary: The first time they meet, he offers her a hundred dollars to drop her towel. / Noah Puckerman knew he and Quinn Fabray were meant to be the first time he met her. Quinn knew they weren't. Yet, they always seem to find each other. Quinn/Puck, heavy mentions of Finn/Rachel, M for mentions, AU


**i started this so long ago and i decided it was time to finish it. i'm sorry it's so crazy! ! ! also, i'm not sorry. mentions of sex and some well, i guess you could call it foreplay? ? i don't know i'm a fifty year old male virgin. song is by jason derulo and also i would be so happy if you left a review :)**

...

"_just stay with me now, say the word and we'll go_

_i'll be your teacher, i'll show you the ropes_

_you'll see a side of love you've never known_

_i can see it going down, going down."_

/

"Rachel, can you open the door?" Quinn calls from the bathroom as she rinses out her blond hair.

Her roommate, Rachel, has once again locked herself into her bedroom belting out the words to a Broadway song and fails to hear Quinn's words.

"Rachel?" Upon no response yet again, she sighs and wraps a towel around her torso. "Shit," she mutters before making her way to the door, running a hand through her damp hair as she opens it.

"I didn't expect you until later, San— Oh." Expecting to see her best friend, and coworker, Santana she was (pleasantly?)— surprised to see a male stranger (a handsome stranger nonetheless but that was not the point) with an impressing physique and a mohawk.

Her cheeks color as she closes the door slightly, trying to cover what's left of her dignity. The guy looks up at her with his intense gaze, a smug smirk forming on his lips.

"Well, hello to you, too."

His eyes shamelessly rake her body like she's a piece of meat and it has her fuming (on the inside, because she's good at hiding her feelings—maybe a bit too good at times).

She crosses her arms, purses her lips, his looks long forgotten and maybe she sounds a bit snarky (and mean and old high school cheerleader Quinn is probably getting the best of her) but _who'_s this guy anyway?

"Can I help you with something? We already donated to the homeless earlier this week."

He chuckles (like he actually chuckles, not like he's making fun of her but like he accepts some kind of challenge and it sends a strange shiver up her spine).

"I'll give you a hundred dollars if you drop the towel."

He cocks an eyebrow and she should feel offended or violated or at least repulsed of some sort, but she isn't and she doesn't (and that's frustrating and confusing) and instead colors entirely red as she crosses and recrosses her arms.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

This time she raises an eyebrow and she's wondering if she's really going to be that girl. The girl other girls— with the pearl necklaces and polished shoes— in her law classes whisper about.

A hundred dollars is a lot of money, though, and life is so hard as a freshman in college. It's expensive and with her job as a barista she barely makes enough money to pay for rent and food— and she'd like to buy some good music and a nice book now and then, or a pretty dress or she'd like to not worry about that extra piece of cake she ordered with her coffee.

And she's not insane and she's not one of those girls that undresses herself at every occasion (certainly not for money) but he's waving that piece of Benjamin Franklin in her face with his cocky smirk and his stupid Mohawk and no one's even around and she's feeling a little adventurous— so she drops her towel, colors even more red before snatching the dollar bill out of his hand and slamming the door in his face.

She picks up her towel and presses her back against the cool wood of the door, closing her eyes. She curses herself, heart racing from adrenaline as she scrunches the piece of paper in her hand. She's in the midst of questioning her sanity when Rachel's music goes mute.

Soon enough, she hears footsteps so Quinn quickly composes herself and takes a deep breath.

"What are you doing?" Rachel asks as she unscrews the cap of her water, a weird expression on her face (since she's not really used to Quinn parading around in a towel).

"Nothing," she replies a little too quickly before adding, "there was someone at the door and you didn't answer." Quinn raises her eyebrows in mock as she takes the bottle from Rachel and takes a swig of it. (Maybe, her heartbeat will finally slow down and her skin will stop feeling like it's on fire.)

"Who was it?" Rachel laughs, taking the bottle back and taking a sip herself.

"I—I," she hesitates, because who was he? What had he'd been at her door for? Surely he hadn't been knocking on doors hoping to find a woman in a towel. She blows a stray of hair from her face, a blush forming on her cheeks yet again because what had she been thinking anyway? She felt kind of dirty and disappointed in herself, and— and _used_ in some way.

"I don't know. Just some guy with a Mohawk and a leather jacket."

Rachel's eyes light up and Quinn presses the towel even tighter against her chest, for some reason she's not even sure about.

"Oh, my cousin, Noah? Did he give you the hundred dollars I lent him last week?"

/

"It's so hot," Rachel moans as she fans herself, but it's no use.

Quinn nods, adjusting her dress' neckline before throwing her head back and slumping down in her seat as she moves an ice cube against her collarbone. Her skin is literally on fire. "Who's brilliant idea was it to do a summer wedding anyway?"

"I feel bad for dragging you all the way out to Lima in the midst of a heat wave for my aunt Debrah's fifth wedding," Rachel actually looks upset and Quinn reaches out to put her hand over Rachel's. "I know you swore you'd never return."

"Believe me, this is a much better way to spend my Spring Break than sitting at a table with my parents and talking about the bible and Yale while casually trying to ignore my mom's alcohol addiction and my dad's adultery," Quinn sighs as she sits up and looks up at the cover band playing. They weren't any good but she guessed if it were to be her fifth wedding she wouldn't be so concerned about the music either.

"Oh wait, maybe we could talk some more about how great it is my sister has three toddlers running around the house and is a 'trophy wife' already. _Why can't you be like that, Quinny_?" She mocks her mother's voice dramatically and Rachel breaks into a laugh.

Rachel claps her hands together as she stands up, looking at the clock. She lets out a small gasp, her voice turning frantic in a matter of seconds, "Well, no time to mope around, I still need to do vocal warm-up for my Céline Dion solo and I need to find my gown and put it on. I can't possibly sing Céline without a gown. And God, where's Noah? He needs to be up on that stage in five minutes! Can you please find that boy before I get a panic attack?"

Quinn's eyes widen, as Rachel pulls her up and pushes her into the direction of the male restrooms. That girl is considerably strong for her size. "Wait, Rachel, wait! Your _cousin_ Noah?"

"That's the one, hurry up, if he isn't on that stage in four minutes and thirteen seconds my entire schedule will be ruined and I won't be able to perform— This entire wedding will be ruined!"

"Rachel, I—"

"Quinn," Rachel's eyes harden as she stares into Quinn's green orbs. "Three minutes and fifty-two seconds."

The blonde rolls her eyes, muttering a small '_fine_' as Rachel lets out an excited squeal, claps her hands before rushing off towards God's knows where to perform one of her ridiculous pre-performance routines.

Well, Rachel might have convinced her to try and look for that _scumbag asshole_— so try she will. Try, nothing more.

She knocks on the door of the restroom, "Hello, Noah?" She asks quietly, shrugging as she hears no reply. Well, no luck. Time to get back to the booze.

She turns around, gasping as she collides her chest into the devil himself. She glares as she takes a step back, pressing her back against the door (something she always seems to be doing around this douchebag).

"You called?" He smirks, looking quite happy with himself. "Although I prefer Puck."

She scowls, crossing her arms, "Rachel is looking for you, you need to perform in a few minutes, _Noah_."

"Oh, baby, it's okay if you want me. There's no need to make up lies," he takes a step closer and she's about to slap him when a smirk forms on her lips.

"You're right, Noah," she drags her finger over his chest and his eyes light up. She bites down on her lip, "Ever since the first time I saw you I haven't been able to stop thinking about you.."

"That's just the Puckerman charm, baby, wait 'till I show you _little Puck_," he raises his eyebrows suggestively and Quinn lets out a small gasp.

"Oh, I want you to show me little, tiny, minuscule Puck."

"Right now?" He looks around confused before looking down at her again. She nods her head slowly, her fingers trailing his belt buckle. He shivers a little before breaking out into an even bigger smirk. She tries to ignore the way he's looking at her because she doesn't like him, remember? She hates his guts.

She pulls him into the restroom, opening a stall, "Go in here and undress. I'll get us some drinks and then I'll come and spoil _mini microscopic_ Puck." She licks her lips slowly, giving him a little wink as she leaves the restroom— and wow, he really wasn't the brightest.

She waits a few minutes before slipping back in quietly. She really doesn't like the self absorbed prick. She reaches up and grabs his clothes before rushing out, ignoring his calls for her to stop.

She hides the clothes in the small kitchen inside aunt Deborah's house before calming herself down. Maybe it was a bit childish and selfish but it felt good to get back at him.

She feels a little bit sorry when she hears a screeching Rachel and something along the lines of '_I can never perform again, I think I've lost my eyesight_' but the smile on her face— when she spots an embarrassed Noah Puckerman in a too big of a suit with a too big of a glare, a few moments later— makes her feel really, _really_ good.

/

It's her senior year at Yale when Rachel gets married to Finn Hudson. She's really happy for Rachel and she couldn't have picked anyone better for Rachel— but the fact Noah Puckerman out of all people is going to be the one to walk her down the aisle really ruins the idea of a perfect wedding.

But everyone knows that when Rachel wants something, she gets it. She's pretty sure it is somewhere in the terms and conditions of the bible (or the Thora, whatever, she doesn't know which rules apply when it comes to Rachel)..

"Come on, Rachel, can't I just go with your uncle Theo?"

"Did you forget he likes the juice very, very much?" Rachel raises her eyebrows as she flips her long brown hair over her shoulder and leans down to put on one of her mary janes. "I'm absolutely certain he was the one that tried to grab your behind at my sweet sixteen party."

Quinn has a vile flashback to her puberty (pimples, nose jobs and peer pressure, no thanks) and a party that consisted out of her and Rachel and all of her loud, Jewish, _noisy_ family members.

_Including_ Uncle Theo, who did in fact grab her ass but she recalls him saying he thought she was his wife. (She also remembers the glassy look in his eyes and the fact his wife was about fifty pounds heavier, a good five inches taller and was a brunette but hey, that's what therapy's for right?)

She also remembers Puck not being there but she recollects the memory of Rachel telling her about him being in and out of juvy since he was twelve because he never had a stable father figure. Or something. She doesn't care. She doesn't even know why she still knows.

"Yes, but it's been years. Aren't you always the one who says that awkward is just an emotion you have to push away?" Quinn tries to brush it off as she takes of the yellow sundress she's wearing and slips into a polka dot dress Rachel chose for her to fit on. She hates trying on clothes - she always finds something wrong with herself.

"Nonsense. You're my maid of honor, Noah is Finn's best man. It would be _strange_ if you didn't walk down the aisle together."

"It's kind of pathetic Finn's only friend is your cousin," she snaps back, while zipping up her dress on the side and she knows she's being unfair but when it comes to Noah Puckerman she seems to lose all her dignity (and someone always seems to lose their clothes, too).

"No need to get snarky, Quinn," Rachel narrows her eyes and crosses her arms, "It's _my_ wedding."

Quinn sighs and looks at herself in the mirror, knowing she can't win the argument, she starts another, "I look ridiculous."

"No," Rachel gushes pulling on the bottom of the dress to straighten it out, "You look so cute!"

"I look like you," Quinn deadpans as she looks at the polka dot dress that ends just above her knee and she can almost imagine the black knee socks and matching polka dot headband that Rachel will force her to wear with it.

"Don't sound so offended," Rachel nudges her as a sleek smile forms on her lips, "Wait till you see the bridesmaid dress I picked out for you."

Rachel really wasn't kidding. The pink pastry shaped dress with ruffles and flowers and lace and a whole lot of '_i don't know what's even going on_' is really not flattering for any of the bridesmaids, especially not for Quinn's short legs. Luckily, Rachel lets her wear her hair down so she doesn't look like a complete sixth grader going to their first school dance.

Nothing beats the fact she has to walk down the frickin' aisle with Noah Puckerman though. The thought of him alone makes her skin crawl.

She doesn't really see the thug before anything of the actual wedding goes down. He was stuck in Los Angeles because he missed his plane during rehearsal dinner (She was pretty sure Rachel was about to order a hitman on Puck if it wasn't for Finn telling her her broadway career was probably over if she got caught) and before the actual wedding she's too busy calming Rachel down about everything and convincing her that her blush doesn't make her nose look bigger and really, no one's going to think you're conceited for singing at your own reception - the only thing she's not doubting is marrying Finn.

The wedding march starts and it's time for all the girls to start walking, and he's not even there. When Rachel, voted biggest drama queen _and_ most melodramatic in their senior year of high school, is on the verge of cancelling the wedding all together - he comes rushing in, fixing his tie and kissing Rachel on the cheek.

His hand lands on her butt almost immediately as he comes to stand next to her and he leans down to whisper in her ear, "Sorry I kept you waiting."

"Sweetie, don't you know I would've waited forever for you," she whispers back sarcastically, slapping his arm away as she watches Tina, the bridesmaid in front of her and Rachel's broadway friend, and Ryder, her boyfriend, walk through the doors of the synagogue and she knows their next.

He smirks at her though as he offers her his arm and with an eyeroll she links their arms and starts walking. She forms a big smile because despite the imbecil on her arm, this is her best friend's wedding and she's getting married to this amazing guy and she's crying a little hard during the vows because she loves them both so much and she wants that, she wants the big wedding and the loving vows and the guy. She especially wants the guy.

When they kiss, Puck offers her a napkin and she looks at him suspiciously as he elaborates, "This chick gave it to me on the way here when I stopped for a coffee. Her numbers on it."

"You stopped on the way here?" She whispers loudly as she narrows her eyes before looking down at the napkin and she can't help but feel this small twinge of jealousy in her chest. (Not because a girl was interested in him - please - but because, well, why wasn't anyone interested in her? He was an asshole, for god's sake.) "You're such a dick."

"Just get yourself together, nobody wants to take a picture with you looking like this," he flashes a quick fake smile, before rolling his eyes and turning back to find the happy couple still macking on each other. (Seriously?)

God, she hates him. She hates him so much. She frickin'_ fucking_ hates him. He makes her blood boil and skin crawl and her head pound and also makes her stomach do these flip flops that she hates. She absolutely hates him. She hates his handsome face and how good his arms look in that white dress shirt and the way he treats women like they're extra change.

So she doesn't really know how they end up in a vacant bathroom stall at the reception, her back pressed into a toilet paper holder and his mouth on hers. She blames it on the two white wines she had and the fact she always feels lonely on weddings. That's it.

Also, he's a really good kisser. She knows it's probably from experience but honestly, with one hand in her hair and the other dangerously close to her boob - she doesn't really give a fuck.

She all of a sudden feels so desperate and she needs more. More kisses, more hands on her body, more him.

"I was really hurt when you left me the last time you know," he whispers against her neck as he tries to catch his breath, "You left me in the cold."

"As was I, the last time you left _me_ naked," she pushes him back and places her lips on his another time, her hand trailing down his chest and all the while trying to push the thought 'stop, this is wrong, you need to stop' out of her head. It's weird how she takes a look at him and she doesn't feel that angry anymore, actually thinks it's kind of funny.

He gives her a nod in confirmation, like some sort of touché, before pulling her against him and connecting their lips. His kisses are hot and heavy and warm, in a way that makes her heart swell and her legs feel kind of numb.

He pushes her back against the wall and moves some of her hair from her face, "Fuck, you're so hot," he half-groans against her lips, pulling her tighter to him as one of his hands moves up to squeeze one of her breasts and she gasps as she closes her eyes.

The material of her dress is forming a big barrier between their lower half so she decides to take matter in her own hands and starts moving her hand downwards.

"Quinn!" She would recognize that voice out of anywhere, mostly because she's listened to in about two third of her life - Rachel. "It's time for the bouquet throwing. I know you're going to catch it this time. I can feel it."

She clears her throat, pulling her hand back and distancing herself as she tries to calm herself down, "Just a minute, Rach, I'll be right there!"

"Cockblock," she hears Puck whisper frustratedly, leaning his head against the stall right above her shoulder and she has to cover her mouth to keep from letting out a small laugh as she nudges him to shush.

She pushes him off and motions for him to move to the back of the stall, kissing him one more time before carefully exiting the stall and closing the door tightly behind her.

"You look all flustered."

"Yeah, it was so hot in there I just had to get out for a second."

Rachel puts her hand on her shoulder as she leads her back to the party, "Aw, Q, don't be nervous, you'll catch the bouquet. I know so."

She does, catch the bouquet and her eyes automatically look for Puck. She finds him, talking to Brittany, one of the other bridesmaids, one of his arms above her head as one of her hands pulls on his tie a little.

So, she guesses that's that. She'll get married. Just not to that son of a bitch, that's for sure.

/

It's not more than five months later that Rachel announces she's pregnant. Quinn feels kind of sorry for her because, taking a look at Finn's genes, she's going to be pushing a watermelon out of her vagina in nine months.

She's also very happy because she loves babies and she can't wait to dress it up and babysit and do fun stuff with it that Rachel and Finn can't do because they're the parents and she's the cool aunt.

The baby shower is a completely different thing. She didn't know he was coming but he's there and he finds her in the kitchen as she takes some of the animal themed cupcakes out of the fridge.

He dips his finger in the frosting and licks it off and if her hands were free she'd slap him (or stab him with a kitchen knife whatever comes to mind first).

"What are you doing here?"

"Well, Rachel's my cousin and Finn is my best friend," he states playing with a stray of her curled hair and she honestly to God doesn't know why her heart is betraying her and swells up to about ten times it size.

"Not _here_ here, idiot. In the kitchen."

"I thought maybe you needed some help," he says flirtily and it takes everything in her not to push the elephant shaped cupcake in his face.

"Why don't you go help Brittany?" She snaps, letting him get the best of her once again as she puts the cupcakes down on the island and starts putting them on a plate.

"I didn't know we were exclusive," he jokes as he moves her now shorter hair away from her shoulder and starts placing kisses on it.

"We weren't, but I thought, since we were on our way to at least third base in a bathroom stall not two minutes earlier, that you could've at least had the decency to wait another three minutes," she ignores the kisses and the tingles going down her spine as she continues moving the cupcakes from the box to the plate. From the box to the plate, from the box to the plate, from the box to the plate - she will not let him do this to her again. "Hey, but now we never will be."

"Well, if I had to pick," he says slowly after a while, one hand moving from her shoulder to her side. He leans closer to her ear, his warm breath making her shiver, "I would always pick you."

She huffs, turning around and pressing her back against the counter, his hands now on either side of her, "Cut the bullshit. You only want me because you like the chase. Admit it."

"What chase?" He gets a glint in his eyes that she really doesn't like. "I mean, you basically got naked the second we met."

She brushes her wavy hair out of her face and straightens her blue dress, she clears her throat a little. "How funny of you."

"I would, you know," he leans closer to her face and she's never felt this nervous.

"Would what?" She manages to still sound pissed off, luckily, and she's so irritated by his attitude. He thinks he can just play around like she's a toy he can play with whenever he wants. Well, she isn't.

"Chose you," he places on kiss on her cheek and takes on of her hands and intertwining their fingers.

Her breath gets stuck in the back of her throat and she knows it's all bullshit and he's probably said this to about fifty girls but _fuck_!

"Your lines really don't work on me," she tilts her head slight, shrugging a little, because she sure as hell won't make it easy. "Sorry."

He leans down and kisses her and she at first refuses, but those three seconds go by fast and before she knows it she has her legs wrapped around his waist and hands are everywhere.

It feels familiar, (and considering it's only the second time she's found herself in this position with him) it's weird and also a little exciting.

His hand moves under her dress and up her thigh while on of her hands starts pulling up his t-shirt because it's been_ too long_ since she's seen those abs. He's kissing her mouth and then the side of her mouth and then her cheek and then he puts both of his hands on her back, supporting her and then he says, "I mean it, I mean - this isn't just another hook-up for me." And when she looks up into his eyes, she really thinks he means it too.

Instead of saying anything, she reaches down to unbuckle his belt, completely unaware of her surroundings and reconnects their lips, hoisting her dress further up her thigh. God, she doesn't even know what she's doing anymore.

Her hand moves up his chest and he takes a step forward, kissing her hard and running a hand through her hair.

In a rush, he wipes the cupcakes of the counter and for a second she totally just completely forgets they're at her best friend's baby shower and there are about thirty people one room away and she's about to have sex on a kitchen counter.

"Quinn, are you okay?" She hears Finn's distraught voice as he walks into the kitchen, "I thought I heard something - Oh, okay, I, oh my God," he quickly said, covering his eyes but still peeking through his fingers. He's already walking backwards, his eyes like those of a deer caught in a headlight or those of someone who just saw satan in person, either way he's leaving, "I see you're totally fine, uhm, okay, bye."

"_Repugnante_!" she hears Santana curse after she bumps into a nervous and anxious-to-leave Finn on her way to check on what was taking the cupcakes so long. "You better decontaminate this entire kitchen, Hudson. You too, Quinn, who knows what you might've caught."

Quinn quickly covers herself as she straightens out her dress and pushes Puck off as she hops of the counter.

She's afraid to look at him, because she knows he probably just did and said what he did in the heat of the moment. The possibility he actually meant any of it was about as big as the chance of Rachel not crying at least once during a movie.

She turns away from him and tries to make her hair look less - well, like sex hair. She hears Santana yelling in the living room that, "Nobody touch the food! Unless you want to catch salmonella, or a pregnancy. No offence, Berry."

Needless to say she won't tell Rachel what happened and she's sure she's never had this kind of red cheeks, only to rush off minutes later with the '_i'm not feeling well_' excuse. Not even three minutes after she gets home she has a text in her inbox.

**UNKNOWN: Rach gav me ur #, wanna hang sumtime? if u want - puck**

She surprises herself when she smiles and acts like she's in a eighties high school romcom because he seems so uncertain like she wouldn't want to and it's cute he's actually a little insecure and it's cute that he likes her and it so frickin' cute that now they won't have to meet in a kitchen or bathroom. And she think she likes him a little more than she intended to.

**Q: Sorry, I can't read what that says x Quinn**

/

"So let's do this," he says as she opens the door to her apartment and she takes a step back, cocking an eyebrow and pursing her lips, one hand on her hip. "Excuse you?"

"I was just kidding, where's your sense of humour?"

"In the trash in Rachel's kitchen, along with my dignity and those cupcakes you wiped off the counter," she sends him a coy smirk and he lets out a small laugh.

"I brought Transporter 2 and 3," he said holding up two dvds before putting them down on her coffee table and shrugging off his jacket and she shakes her head as she turns on the tv. "No way, we could watch the Princess Diaries?"

"I'd rather chew on my own eyeballs than watch Anne Hathaway straighten her hair and put on a crown for an entire hour and a half."

She rolls her eyes and walks over to him with the Notebook and he shakes his head before she even has the chance to suggest it, "No fuckin' way I'm watching that, Q."

"What else should we watch?" She says innocently as she pulls on the bottom of his shirt before pecking his lips once.

"We could still watch Transporter?" He suggests, leaning in to actually kiss her as they fall back on the couch. She bites her lip as her hand moves up his chest, under his shirt.

"Really?"

"Hmm, I don't know.." He teases as he draws mindless patterns on her lower back with his thumbs.

"What about now?" She says slowly, taking one of his hands and putting it on her boob as she raises an eyebrow and leans down for a kiss.

"Especially now," he smirks, pushing her off carefully and reaching for the remote.

She hits his chest playfully, "Oh, really?" She laughs as puts one knee on either side of him and pulls her flower patterned blouse over her head.

They have sex with Gordon Ramsay screaming on the background that the '_chicken is so raw that a skilled vet could still save it_' and they have a good laugh at that one for a few moments before their mouths find each other again.

It's good and right and she doesn't regret one bit of this journey that's brought her to Puck. It might not have been the fairy tale, easy, romcom, every little girl's dream kind of journey, but she ended up with her mohawked prince and she couldn't be happier that she did.

At least, not until a few years later when she's cooking dinner in their New York apartment and he comes up from behind her. She turns around to find him holding their three year old daughter and she automatically reaches out to fix the blond hair on top of her head, not forgetting to squeeze her little chubby cheeks and placing a kiss on her nose. The tiny blonde giggles a little as she reaches out with her tiny fists to grab one of Quinn's long wavy locks.

Quinn smiles as she lets her grab onto her hand instead and the little girl brings it to her mouth to kiss it. Her smile fades and she narrows her eyes alarmingly as she takes a look at her husband's face. "_Noah_…"

"Hey,_ Q_, Charlie here has a little question for you," he wears a mischievous smile on his face and she just says a quick prayer and hopes that Charlotte didn't finger paint their entire living room again.

"What's it, baby?" She sighs relieved as she reaches out to wipe some finger paint from Puck's cheek before freezing as their daughter speaks.

"Mommy, how did you and daddy meet?"

Yeah, who is she even kidding, even in that moment, she doesn't regret it one bit.

/

_fin._


End file.
